Having four years ago gone through Stage 3/4 cancer, my experience has been that within pain, there is usually a nugget of evolution of a new consciousness. See whatever you’re going through as something that can be about your enlightenment as opposed to a pointless horror. —Eve Ensler
I’m thinking of deactivating my Facebook account, if only for a week or so. I notice a lot of my friends are deactivating or even deleting their accounts, but I can’t bring myself to get rid of it, at least not yet. There are still people on there whose phone numbers I don’t have and who I would like to see in real life again someday. It used to be that I stayed on Facebook because it was impossible to get rid of and organizing events tends to be easier on Facebook than anywhere else, but that’s not true anymore. Now, I stay on because I still don’t think I’ve built up enough of a social life that I can do without it. Hopefully, I’ll get there someday.
I find that I am spending more and more time on Netflix these days. That’s probably a good thing. I have this subscription, so I might as well use it. One thing I notice is that I have a weird anxiety about my queue. Since my subscription is streaming-only, it shouldn’t matter how long my queue is or what order the stuff is in. And yet I do worry about it a lot, which is weird. The fact that I’m even making use of this thing that I pay for is a good thing, but now I worry that I’m neglecting it whenever I watch something on Hulu or wherever else. It’s weird. (Somebody is probably saying “first world problems” to themselves, to which I respond: Where do you live, Uganda? By the way, there is a really good documentary about homophobia in Uganda called Call Me Kuchu on Netflix. Check it out.)
It takes energy to do more than just sit around and be useless all day. Even getting up to grab the remote takes at least a small amount of motivation. So even if all I get done in a given day is reading a couple of New York Times articles or leaving a message for a friend that they don’t return, I do consider that a better use of my time than lying in bed and watching YouTube videos. I really would like to get a second job, but finding places that are hiring, then winnowing them down to places that will hire somebody who is available only part-time, whose schedule at his other job changes every week, and who does not own a car, can be a bit difficult. So be patient with me, everyone. I still have flashbacks to that night when my psychotic Queens roommate threatened to kill me. I still wake up at 5 am feeling nervous for no goddamn reason. And of course, I’m single. Have I mentioned that enough?
Thing is, when I don’t have the energy to engage with someone, I don’t have the energy. My mother typically calls me about once a week. After our fight a little less than two weeks ago, I haven’t taken any of her calls. Is that really so bad? From her messages, I get the impression that it’s wearing on her. But how is that my fault? I have friends who live within driving distance of me who I have not seen in months. I ask them when they’re free, and they don’t get back to me. I kind of feel like if I could just get my mother to fret a little bit less about whether or not I’m talking to her, my friends might be able to find the time to see me. So yes, I am somewhat blaming my parents for the fact that I’m single. I don’t want to turn out like them. I’m not the spitting image of either, nor am I half of one and half of the other. I know people who take after their parents in ways so obvious that you could guess they were related even if no one told you. I don’t feel like that’s me. And if it is, it means I’m doing something wrong.
I was never a huge fan of the American version of Queer as Folk, but there was one episode that I found moving. Michael discovers that his real father was not, as his mother had told him, a war hero, but a drag queen whom she had dated as a teenager when he was still in the closet. When Michael visits the drag queen, the queen tells him that the only truth that matters is the one he chooses to accept. So Michael decides that as far as he is concerned, his real father was a war hero. It makes sense to me.
I spend a lot of my time snarking at shit on the internet. It’s fun, and it gives a sense of perspective. 90% of the internet is porn; the other 10% is nostalgia. We can’t spend all our lives reminiscing about our childhoods. Mine wasn’t even that much fun to begin with. So I do somewhat believe that life gets better as you get older. But I don’t necessarily believe that the years go by faster. I think it is possible to age at exactly the speed that you want. I just haven’t figured out how.
I’ve had Skyrim sitting on my desk for about five months now. I think I should just play the damn thing already.